


Another Life

by Scientist_Salarian



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, M/M, Post BotFA, Some welcomes are not always warm ones, Thráin lives AU, everyone lives nobody dies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 20:54:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3704563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scientist_Salarian/pseuds/Scientist_Salarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thráin II son of Thrór never died at Dol Guldur. Instead he found himself liberated from the hell that he had been imprisoned in for nine long years. He wakes in Rivendell where under the watch of Lord Elrond he slowly begins down his long road to recovery. He learns more of his sons quest to reclaim the Mountain, and is both horrified and impressed by all that Gandalf has to tell him. Eventually Elrond deems he is healed enough physically but alludes to the notion that some scars are not always visible and perhaps a change of locale to places far more familiar would be good for him. After months of traveling Thráin finds himself at the crossroads that would take him to the gates to the halls of the King under the Mountain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Another Life

**Author's Note:**

> I am now embarking on another fic! I had seen this idea around tumblr and it was my involvement in the Sansûkh podfic which ultimately had me decide to take this on and start to write it as well.  
> I would like to begin by saying that The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings are all the property of one professor Tolkien and to him I am eternally grateful for him giving life to the world of the Middle Earth.  
> I will also be borrowing the names of Hrera and Frís from determamfidd with her permission.
> 
> Also, HI DÁIN.

“Are you certain this is what you want to do?”

He understood his hesitation, after all, he had only recently felt himself up to the notion of returning to his once lost home now reclaimed by his son and company.

“Yes.”

They had lingered at the crossroads for the better part of an hour, night was beginning to fall around them and he could see the distant flames of the braziers at the gates of Erebor flickering in the slowly creeping darkness.

Dale was closer, he could delay it another day the wizard insisted and they could take the night to prepare. He decided against, he would not run from this.

With a click of his tongue and a gentle nudge with his heels his pony began to trot forward again and he heard the wizards sigh from behind him.

“Thráin… Lord Elrond insisted that you do not over exert yourself, after all you’re still not completely healed.”

Thráin knew what Gandalf was referring. The elf lord had long deemed him to be healed in body in that his former strength had returned, having gained back all the weight and muscle he had lost during his imprisonment.

Which itself was a miracle given the diet the weed-eaters had him on.

He knew that Gandalf watched him, that the wizard worried he would slip and the memories would come back and he would lash out.

Some wounds would take far longer to heal.

He saw how the mountain loomed before them, stretching upwards into the night sky. This was all so familiar to him, everything about it. Even as he looked out over the desolation the worm wrought he saw how life was beginning to return to the once barren ground.

It brought him comfort to know the mountain was being restored by his son, that Thorin had won the mountain and had defended it.

Tharkûn had come while he still lay recovering in Rivendell to tell him the tale of Thorin’s company and their quest to retake the mountain.

Thráin remembered how the story chased away some of his more vivid memories and nightmares and brought him comfort.

He even recalled how he would whisper into the dark telling Frís all that their son had done, that he had done what both his father and grandfather could not. While hearing the sparse bits that wizard had been there for Thráin was eager to hear it all from his son, to share in the legend he was certain his son would become.

It had been the elf lord that had decided that perhaps Thráin would benefit from being in the presence of his kin once more. Thráin had been excited by the prospect, life was far too comfortable amongst the elves, they did not seem to share in the hardships that many of the other races did and he did not see himself wanting to spend the rest of his days doing nothing and languishing away under the elves watchful eyes.

When Tharkûn had asked if he wished to return to Erebor he had been ecstatic, asking when they would depart and Gandalf had only laughed at his insistence that they left immediately.

“I’m certain Lord Elrond will want to ensure you are fit to travel before he will allow it.”

“There will be none of that, I am ready to leave. I’m ready to go… to go home, Gandalf.”

The wizard had fallen silent before he nodded and place a hand gently on his shoulder to pat it.

“Then we will leave on the morrow.”

Now he looked on at the gates of his father’s kingdom, now the kingdom of his son and he felt pride burn in his chest as he gave a small tug on the reins of his pony as Gandalf caught up and glanced to him.

“I expect nothing short of an uproar if we were to enter through the gates.”

Gandalf commented and Thráin gave a small nod of his head as he considered this. He truly did not wish to draw any more attention to himself than necessary. He wanted only to find his son and his daughter to see them both again and not worry of anything else.

It left little options though, it had been so long that he did not even know if there would be other ways in asides from the hidden doorway and he himself had not even the faintest idea as to where to even start looking for it.

Gandalf watched his friend before he looked back towards the gate, he had an idea, but that would require a little help from those already within the mountain.

“I’ll return in the moment, we will go through the gate but I will ensure that we will not be disturbed.”

Thráin watched the wizard warily for a moment, his lips thinned into a narrow line before he finally nodded. If it was the only way to get in, then so be it.

When he nodded Gandalf turned his attention to the gate and urged his horse forward.

Thráin sighed deeply as he was left alone in the coming darkness. He flinched as a chill settled over his bones and he drew the furs he wore tighter to himself as he sighed and waited.

It was most fortunate that Gandalf arrived to find Dwalin briefing those that were taking over the first shift of the night watch.

He went unnoticed for a moment before Dwalin it seemed caught sight of him and dismissed the guards standing before him.

“Tharkûn.”

Dwalin said with a small nod of his head as Gandalf closed the distance between them.

“I need to speak with you, privately for a moment.”

He could see the hesitation as well as the suspicion in how Dwalin carried himself before he nodded and gestured for the wizard to follow him until they stood a short distance away from any curious ears.

“I have… there is someone I need to get into the city unnoticed.”

He could see how Dwalin’s scowl darkened, the roll of his eyes in the dim light and then how he fixed him with a look that perfectly conveyed his opinion on the matter.

“I don’t have time for this.”

Dwalin growled as he turned from the wizard who stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. Dwalin spun and glared up at him as he shrugged the touch away.

“This would be for Thorin.”

That caught Dwalin’s attention though he still looked at Gandalf with nothing short of annoyance as he grunted for the wizard to continue. When Gandalf saw that he perhaps had the cooperation of the dwarrow he continued.

“I have someone I need to get into the city unnoticed as his appearance would cause quite the commotion.”

“Who.”

“What?”

“Who is it?”

Dwalin asked as he studied the wizards face, there were few that Thorin would ask to see. Dís had already long since arrived in the city, both Fíli and Kíli were accounted for as was Thorin’s burglar, so who else would there be.

“It’s quite complicated mister Dwalin, surely you would let me explain after we get him into the city.”

“I won’t let anyone cross that threshold without knowing, who is it?”

Gandalf let out a huff of breath as he returned Dwalin’s glare with one of his own, he really didn’t have the time for this.

“This is really not the time, please, we need to get him inside.”

Dwalin shook his head and he heard the wizard curse quietly behind as he turned away and took his first few steps away before he heard Gandalf speak again.

“Thráin.”

That stopped Dwalin dead in his tracks as he turned and looked back to the wizard, he almost thought he had heard wrong, and so he asked once more who Gandalf wanted to get in to the city.

“Thráin, you know him well Dwalin.”

“He’s dead.”

“No, no he’s not. He’s very much alive, and waiting to return to the city. I know the raucous it would cause if he were to just walk through the doors which is why I wish to do it as quietly as possible. I’m sure with your help that would be easily achieved.”

Dwalin exhaled sharply, once more rolling his eyes. He almost didn’t believe the wizard, Thráin was dead, long having disappeared into the wild never to be seen or heard from again.

“I want to see him before I agree to this.”

He could see the irritation written across the wizards face as he fumbled with his words before closing his mouth and glaring. Dwalin did not flinch as the wizard muttered to himself before finally nodding.

“Very well, come with me and you will see for yourself.”

It was taking longer than he had first thought it would, he knew that Gandalf wouldn’t just leave him sitting out here.

Darkness had settled across the plains now and he shifted uneasily in the saddle. He didn’t care much for the darkness now, especially being caught defenseless and in the open. Well, not entirely defenseless. The elves had seen to ensuring he had a sword with him. Not his weapon of choice but it was better than being without.

Thráin looked out towards the gates again, this time he could make out the distant shape of the wizards horse as well as another that joined him.

Was this part of the wizards plan to get him into Erebor?

He straightened in his saddle as they drew ever closer and he tried to make out who accompanied the wizard.

It became easier to tell the closer they got and Thráin was surprised to see Gandalf accompanied by one of the sons of Fundin.

Just as he was surprised to see Dwalin, he could the younger of Fundin’s sons surprised to see him. There was recognition in his expression, how he clenched his jaw looking from Thráin to Gandalf before back to the father of his dearest friend.

Gandalf it seemed was rather smug at Dwalin’s surprised, which he felt served him right for doubting him in the first place.

“Dwalin I’m sure you are already acquainted with Thráin and that I need not introduce you to him.”

Dwalin came back to himself and old suspicions rose in him as he eyed the dwarrow across from him. Thráin watched him in turn, he was well aware that this would not be easy. He knew that he had long been given up for dead.

“How is your brother?”

Well, he certainly sounded like Thráin, Dwalin thought to himself as he continued to watch the other dwarrow occasionally glancing to Gandalf who had long since take his pipe into hand assuming that they may be there for quite a while.

“He’s well enough.”

Dwalin answered, a little too gruffly in Thráin’s opinion but he couldn’t blame him for being cautious. He considered a way to try and put Dwalin at ease and only sighed as he began to speak,

“I am Thráin, son of Thrór. My mother’s name was Hrera, she and my wife Frís were both killed when Smaug took Erebor. My children are Thorin, Frerin who died at Azanulbizar along with my father, and Dís. I… I have two grandsons that I would very much like to meet as I had gone before the eldest was born.”

Dwalin fell silent as he straighten in his saddle before he looked to Gandalf then back to Thráin,

“Get your hood up, I’ll escort you in. Less chance of any questions being asked.”

“Thank you.”

Thráin did as he was bid, drawing the hood of his travelling cloak up and enough to cast at least part of his face into shadow as they finally began the last bit of their trek to Erebor.

 

Dwalin waved of the guards, and a sharp glare was enough to keep the more curious ones away as they dismounted.

Thráin kept his head down as he and Gandalf followed Dwalin further into the mountain. He knew these halls, he couldn’t help reaching out with a shaking hand to run his fingers across the worn stone.

He was home.

He dared a glanced upwards and took in the sight of the walkways and vaulted ceilings. It was just as he remembered, everything was just as he recalled.

The dwarrows they passed paid them no mind as they moved deeper into the mountain. Thráin kept his pack close, the borrowed elven blade tucked into his cloak as the carried on.

Dwalin ensured they weren’t bothered as they came to the great walkways of the inner audience chambers.

Thráin heard Dwalin grunt ahead of him and Gandalf before he turned and looked back at them,

“Guess they’ll done for the night. Got another spot we can check for them.”

Dwalin turned and led the way back across the walkway as Thráin turned to look over his shoulder towards the raised dais the throne sat on and how the Arkenstone was one more set in the place above it.

He suppressed a shudder at the sight of the jewel and of the memories that accompanied it.

He felt Gandalf’s hand on is back guiding him forward and with a small nod he fell in step with both wizard and Dwalin as they moved from the main audience chamber.

Dwalin led them further in, Thráin began to recognize where he was knowing that they were nearly the royal apartments. He could feel the nervousness twisting in his gut the further they went. Old fears beginning to resurface all the while laced with new ones.

What if Thorin forgot him?

A silly thought as he knew his son would never have forgotten him. At least, he hoped that was the case. He could see Dwalin occasionally glance back over his shoulder as they continued down hallways and twisting corridors until they finally arrived.

Thráin steeled himself as they came to a stop before one door and he could just barely make out voices on the other side. Dwalin knocked and the voices grew quiet before he heard Thorin call out to the door.

Dwalin entered first, closing the door slightly and Thráin couldn’t actually hear the exchange, curious as to why he had slipped back into Khuzdul before he was able to make out Thorin’s next words.

“Send… send him in.”

The door opened fully and Dwalin motioned him forward and Thráin, Thráin hesitated. He hesitated on the threshold of the sitting rooms that had once belonged to his parents, now the rooms of his son.

He heard how Gandalf cleared his throat and he straightened, willing his feet to move as he stepped into the room and drew his hood back in the process.

Thráin saw how his son stiffened, how he suddenly grabbed tightly to the chair he stood beside to steady himself as he stared at him.

“Thorin…. Inùdoy.”

Thorin was on the move, crossing the floor all but ignoring the confused and curious looks of both hobbit and his nephews as he came to stand before his father.

“’Adad.”

There was so much for him to say, to apologize for, and to make up for. His son said nothing for several long moments as he looked at him and Thráin met his gaze.

Thorin was the first to move and he reached up and slid a hand into his father’s hair as he drew him close and gently bumped their foreheads together.

He let out a shaky breath as he looked at his son, and he could see the beginnings of a smile on his sons face before it slowly grew into something broad before Thorin threw his arms around him.

Thráin was momentarily stunned, frozen in place before he slowly embraced Thorin, hugging him close almost hesitating in his belief that he was truly here.

That he was truly back in Erebor, that his son stood alive and whole before him.

He closed his eyes and held Thorin tighter, he hardly heard Dwalin speak behind him, asking Fíli… or was it Kíli, to go and fetch their mother.

Gandalf was the one to notice the slight bit of sadness written across the hobbits face and he circled around the two dwarrows to stand by the hobbits chair.

“Are you alright Bilbo?”

“Oh? Yes, I’m perfectly fine.”

Bilbo squirmed under the wizard’s critical eye and the confidence fell as his shoulders dropped only slightly,

“I’ve never seen Thorin so open with anyone, well, other than the Lady Dís, and Fíli and Kíli… he’s still nervous around me and it’s… I don’t understand.”

“Well, Thorin has not seen him in a very long time, so it’s only natural that their first greetings after such a stretch at like this.”

Bilbo looked up to Gandalf his mouth opening as he prepared to speak again before they heard a crash from the doorway.

Dís had arrived with Fíli beside her, the tray she had been carrying falling from numb fingers as she look from Thorin to Thráin.

Fíli looked from his mother to Thorin and Thráin before he scooted back to his place beside his brother and the two watched the proceedings with interest.

Dís gathered herself and straightened, stepping over the fallen tray and into the room. Thorin looked to his sister before he gently drew away from his father and Thráin now turned to face Dís.

“Da.”

Gandalf saw Bilbo’s eyes widen momentarily before he looked from Thorin, Dís, and Thráin to the wizard beside him. Without saying a word Gandalf simply smiled as he turned his attention back to the three as Dís calmly made her way towards the two.

Thorin took note of the slight downward curl of Dís’ lip, and made a point to take another small step backwards to give a wider berth as she finally came to stand before their father.

“Dís…”

Thráin said softly and he was the one to step towards her, she stopped him lifting a hand up and he looked from it to her.

Everything else happened so quickly, he saw her draw her arm back, and hadn’t realized what she had done until her knuckles made contact with his jaw and the force of the impact had his head turn with the follow through.

Thráin could hear her snarled words, the curses that had both her sons look at each other nervously, and how Dwalin gaped at her surprised she even knew such words. How Thorin it seemed was least surprised by her reaction and the words that followed all the while both hobbit and wizard shared another look before Gandalf gave a small shrug of his shoulders and a mumbled ‘dwarves’.

Dís let her hand fall to her side, there was still anger in her eyes, but as quickly as it had come it had gone and Thráin suddenly found his arms full with his daughter. She held to him tightly, and like Thorin he hugged her close resting his rapidly bruising cheek against the top of her head.

The back of his throat burned as he listened to Dís’s quiet words, he kissed the top of her head as he lifted his head and swallowed, clearing his throat before he trusted himself to speak.

“Thorin, come here.”

Thorin obeyed and joined both his father and sister, and Thráin held both of his surviving children to him.

Now the tears came, he couldn’t stop them, once he had thought he would never see them again, and now, now here he was safe in the halls of Erebor.

He was home.

**Author's Note:**

> Dís makes me smile.


End file.
